


Steady and Fleet and Storm and Sunrise

by karotsamused



Series: Four Words Each [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Girl, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship Asahi/Noya, ambiguous gender identity, female Nishinoya, secret volleyball princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karotsamused/pseuds/karotsamused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OR</p><p>How To Be A Man<br/>by: Tanaka Ryuunosuke<br/>Paragon of Manliness<br/>Handsome Devil<br/>Great Friend<br/>Sportsman<br/>Scholar<br/>Expert</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steady and Fleet and Storm and Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> I finally wrote the prequel I promised a million years ago. Please read the first story in this series first if you haven't, because they slot together.
> 
> Also, Tanaka is a little snot and I love him.
> 
> Also also, thank you again to my sweet and patient and darling Bean, who is my beta and my cheerleader.

If anyone asked him - though nobody would, because the only exception had occurred in near-total privacy, the only witness being Noya himself, and Noya knew a thing or two about keeping secrets - Tanaka would swear up and down that he’d never dropped Noya, not even once. Tanaka’s hands and arms were steady, his spirit strong, his heart golden. He was a warrior on the court, with a fierce and steadfast spirit.  
  
A man like Tanaka would never be so badly startled by feeling the bandages under Noya’s shirt as to reflexively give Noya over to the pull of gravity and send him crashing down to the floor of the supply room.  
  
However, a man like Tanaka _would_ , after totally not having made such a mistake, immediately fall to his knees beside his fallen teammate in equal parts atonement and offer of assistance. If there were tears in his eyes, of surprise or of shame or of sudden terror, they were nothing but the most masculine and noble tears possible.  
  
“Noya-san!” he cried, his hands outstretched, hovering just shy of actually touching Noya.  
  
Noya coughed, the breath knocked from his lungs, his arms wrapped around his ribs. “The hell?” he wheezed, curling up.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize they were broken!” said Tanaka, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Don’t move. Did you puncture one of your lungs? Are you breathing blood?”  
  
“What?” asked Noya, bewildered, trying to sit. “No, just winded—“ He cut himself off when Tanaka put both his hands on his chest and started to push him back down. Noya caught himself on his elbows, yelping, “Ryuu!”  
  
“Just, just. Just. I’ll call Take-chan. I’m gonna call Take-chan, okay?” babbled Tanaka, his voice rising in pitch. His expression was frantic, eyebrows drawn down over darting eyes.  
  
Noya frowned more severely. “What the hell for?”  
  
“Your ribs, you idiot, I just— I just dropped Noya-san, I’m so careless—“  
  
Noya stared at him, eyes widening, before breaking into laughter. “My ribs are fine!”  
  
Tanaka gaped. He sat back on his heels, watching Noya laugh. Maybe his ribs _weren’t_ broken. Certainly, it seemed that way, if Noya’s gratuitously loud snickering was unhindered. Tanaka had the distinct feeling he was the butt of some joke he didn’t understand.  
  
“Ryuu, Ryuu, it’s okay,” said Noya, pushing himself up to sit better, leaning over his knees. His grin was wide. “But uh, thank you? For worrying.”  
  
Tanaka frowned. “If your ribs aren’t broken, why are you in a frickin’ body cast thing?”  
  
Noya shook his head. “It’s not a cast.” Before Tanaka could ask what the hell it was, then, he held up his hand. “It’s to keep my boobs in.”  
  
It was so unexpected that Tanaka had to laugh, a rough sound punched out of him. And after that, all of his muscles tensed, the hair raising on his arms. “Don’t kid, Noya-san.”  
  
“I’m not,” said Noya, pinning him with a look. His face was as serious as Tanaka had ever seen it outside a game, or a fight. “It’s called a binder and it works better than a sports bra.”  
  
In moments such as the one that ensued, the relativity of time made itself excruciatingly clear. For Tanaka, eons passed while his universe realigned itself around the truth Noya had laid at his feet. The molecules that comprised him trembled, and his mind whirred with fear and hope and, burning brightly, the kind of respect that wove itself into his core. He couldn’t know how long Noya waited for him to react, only that when he felt his lungs take in a great, new breath, the word that escaped him was, “Oh.”  
  
Wary, Noya watched him. “Ryuu?”  
  
At some point, Tanaka had slipped off of his heels and down onto the floor. Weakly, he asked, “Were you ever gonna tell me?”  
  
The edges of Noya’s wariness softened. He blinked, slow, like a cat signaling trust. “Yeah? No. I don’t know.” He shook his head, shrugging. “It wasn’t ever s’posed to come up.”  
  
“But you just told me!”  
  
“Because you thought I had broken ribs and I — come on, Ryuu, like I was gonna let you think you actually hurt me.” He offered a wry smile. Tanaka immediately hated the hint of pleading underneath it. “I. I guess I never thought about needing a cover story.”  
  
“You need one,” said Tanaka, pointing at Noya, his finger thrust roughly into the space between them. “If you’re gonna keep jumping on people. If you’re gonna stay on the team, even.”  
  
“I’m _gonna_ stay on the team,” growled Noya, like he’d just been threatened.  
  
Tanaka felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Shit yeah, you are. Meet your official backup.”  
  
Noya’s hackles lowered. When he smiled in return, it was small, but real. “Hi, stranger.”  
  
“Call me Ryuu,” said Tanaka, effectively dispelling whatever weirdness Noya might have expected to remain. He sat up better, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m gonna help you do whatever it is you’ve got to so you can stay on the team.”  
  
Noya laughed. “Whatever it is, huh?”  
  
“Yeah! Anything. Karasuno needs its libero,” he added, deflating a little. “And the rest goes without saying.”  
  
“So don’t say it,” answered Noya. He pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his backside. He looked more at ease than he had since Tanaka had first dropped him, and he held out a hand to pull Tanaka up alongside him.  
  
Tanaka took it, then squeezed once he was on his feet, like they were sealing a pact. True to Noya’s request, he didn’t say anything more. As they walked out of the supply room and into the empty gymnasium, he wondered just who else knew, if anyone. He wondered whether or not Noya would ever _have_ told him, whether Noya had just been waiting for the right time. He wondered, obscurely, whether or not Noya would be pissed that Tanaka still thought of him as a guy. It was certainly the least satisfying grope he’d ever managed on anyone ever, so it totally didn’t count.  
  
Yeah, totally.  
  


 

* * *

  
  
Being Noya’s backup, for Tanaka, entailed some careful observation to ensure there were no cracks in Noya’s illusory armor. And after two days of scrutiny and comparison, he felt he had a solid conclusion and necessary required actions. His excellent timing ensured that the very next day was Saturday, which afforded him the chance to pay a social visit to discuss his conclusions with his subject.  
  
It was not the first time Tanaka had been by Noya’s place, but it was only ever to pick him up for an event. Suddenly, Noya’s reluctance to have him come inside made tremendous sense. With this consideration in mind, Tanaka had come in workout clothes, a volleyball under his arm, asking after Noya for a pick-up game.  
  
When Noya emerged, Tanaka grinned and took off at a jog, heading not for the school or the park, but toward the road that took them into the hills, where houses were fewer and further between, and passing cars took the curves slowly so they, on foot, had little to fear.  
  
It wasn’t long before Noya caught him up, and they walked side-by-side. Tanaka tossed the volleyball as he walked, which Noya stole. They made a game of it, which made the hills seem much less steep than they were. Noya’s laughter was bright and unhurried. He sounded contented just to be hanging out.  
  
After an appreciable interval, once they were well away from the shops that lined the roads at the base of the hill, Tanaka said, “So as your backup, I’ve gotta tell you that I’m glad I’ve come along to help you out.”  
  
Without missing a beat, Noya said, ”I don't need any help."  
  
"Yeah, yes you do. Listen, Noya-san, you're doin' great-"  
  
"I fooled you, didn't I?" Noya tossed the ball purposefully at Tanaka’s head.  
  
Tanaka snatched the ball from the air, holding it one-handed. ”Um. Yeah. But. I had suspicions!"  
  
"No, you didn't."  
  
"Noya-san. You're missing the _nuances_ ,” said Tanaka, waving his free hand.  
  
"There's nuance?" asked Noya, looking thoroughly amused.  
  
Tanaka continued, undaunted. ”Yeah! Little things that guys don't even think about. But when they're missing, they're... they're really obvious."  
  
"Oh, really."  
  
"I don't think you can fully comprehend just how many times a day your balls are gonna stick to your leg."  
  
Noya made a face. ”Glgh!"  
  
"See? And that's not the kinda thing you're gonna learn from watching."  
  
"I'm not watching you do that."  
  
Tanaka flushed. ”I didn't say I wanted you to!"  
  
"Ryuu-"  
  
"I'm just gonna _tell_ you everything you need to know so nobody else finds out."  
  
"Basically I'd just decided I wasn't gonna let anybody else manhandle me,“ said Noya, before he reached out to take the volleyball from Tanaka.  
  
"How long is that one gonna last?" asked Tanaka, holding the ball out of his reach. He could feel, as Noya jumped for the ball, the way their chests bumped together.  
  
"As long as I say it's gonna!” replied Noya, as if he hadn’t noticed. “I don't want to hear about your stupid balls."  
  
"Low blow, Noya-san,” said Tanaka, just as Noya succeeded in getting the volleyball from him.  
  
"Pff-" Noya had to cover his mouth, but then dissolved into laughter.  
  
Tanaka, looking triumphant, put his hands on his hips. "C'mon. I wanna help."  
  
"I get power of veto."  
  
Tanaka sketched a salute. ”Yes, _Mister President_. But you’ve gotta promise to trust your advisor.”  
  
Noya snorted, tossing the ball far over his head. As it came down, he murmured, “I guess you’d know.”  
  
“Say that again, but try to sound _more_ skeptical,” deadpanned Tanaka, to make Noya laugh.  
  
“Did you just invite me out so you could tell me I’m not convincing enough?” asked Noya, looking over.  
  
“No!” Tanaka held his hands out, expectant, and Noya tossed him the ball. He tried to spin it on his finger as he considered, failing a good three times before continuing, “I’ve got suggestions.”  
  
Noya regarded him, then sighed. “Okay. Okay, suggest away.”  
  
“Seriously, think about your balls.”  
  
“I’m gonna hit you with this one!” cried Noya, grabbing the volleyball and waving it threateningly.  
  
Laughing hysterically, Tanaka sprinted up the hill ahead of Noya for a good few yards before he turned to jog backwards so he could face Noya as they continued up. Noya had the volleyball pressed between his two hands, his eyes narrowed.  
  
“I mean it! You walk like you got nothin’ between your legs—“ he caught the ball Noya pelted at him and yelped when Noya broke into a vengeful run straight for him. “Whoa, whoa, I’m allowed to look! I’m observing, that’s all!”  
  
“You can learn to walk like you got nothin’ between _your_ legs either,” threatened Noya, making a pointed, twisting motion with his hand. “I’m not liking the way you’re observing.”  
  
Tanaka blinked as he realized. “Shit, Noya-san, you don’t think I’m pervin' on you, do you?” he asked, stopping.  
  
Noya came to a stop in front of him and chewed the inside of his cheek. “ _Are_ you?”  
  
Tanaka grinned. “I ain’t gay, Noya-san.”  
  
Noya punched him in the chest, but it was light, a warning. “That’s the point. Don’t be stupid.”  
  
“Don’t see how. You’re a dude.” Tanaka shrugged. “To me, at least.”  
  
“You’re serious.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“No take-backs.”  
  
“No! What d’you think I’m gonna do to you?” He rubbed the side of his nose. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were insulting me.”  
  
Noya took a step back, looking away. “I just want you to be my friend.”  
  
A car passed by them, carefully skirting the pedestrian path.  
  
A red flush, starting at the base of Noya’s neck, was creeping steadily upward toward his cheeks.  
  
“Noya-saaan. You _like_ someone, don’t you?” said Tanaka, like the words had barely even come from his own mouth.  
  
“No! I don’t have to like someone to not want to— to. To want you to be my friend,” finished Noya. His shoulders slumped, and he looked fairly miserable. “Okay?”  
  
Tanaka pressed his lips together. “Noya-san. I just wanna be your friend, too. I’m not gonna tell anyone, and I’m not gonna want any more than that just to keep my mouth shut. I’m not _like_ that.”  
  
“I didn’t say you were,” said Noya, his hands clenching into fists. “I didn’t mean it that way.”  
  
“Good. Because. Gross,” said Tanaka, huffing. He tossed the ball at Noya to make him catch it. “I’m on your side. A hundred percent.”  
  
Noya eyed him over the volleyball, then spun it between his hands. “Okay. So. What am I supposed to do, then.”  
  
“When we get to the top of the hill you’re gonna let me buy you something outta the vending machine, and then you’re gonna learn to walk.”

 

* * *

  
  
Tanaka lay on his back, his knees tucked up and the bottoms of his feet directed at the sky. He braced his hands on the ground, tensed his core, and only grunted a little when Noya climbed up onto his feet. The soles of their shoes pressed together.  
  
Noya thrust his arms out, balancing. Tanaka concentrated on bracing his legs while Noya got himself steady, one hand pressed to a nearby tree for balance.  
  
"Good?"  
  
"Yeah, go," breathed Noya, before letting out a whoop as Tanaka straightened his legs. Once Tanaka was at full extension, Noya laughed brightly, then had to windmill his arms to stay steady.  
  
"Oi-"  
  
"I got it I got it I got it-"  
  
Tanaka grunted again, but then they balanced. His legs only shook a little with the effort of not locking his knees.  
  
Noya looked pretty thrilled. "Ryuu, this is _so_ cool."  
  
"I told you! Che," said Tanaka with a grin. "If you sucked at volleyball you coulda been a cheerleader. You're light as a bird."  
  
“As a _crow_ ," corrected Noya. He lowered himself into a crouch, looking down at Tanaka. "Your face is turning red."  
  
"Don't put your foot down, I'll kill you."  
  
"Wh-whoooa," said Noya, pantomiming a loss of balance. "Oh, noooo, I'm faaaaalling - Hngh!" He grunted when he hit the ground next to Tanaka, then rolled over and started laughing. "You didn't have to throw me!"  
  
"I was expectin' you to fly," said Tanaka, all innocence.  
  
Noya laughed harder, delighted. After a long afternoon of learning how to walk like a boy, Noya’s expression had gone tight and focused. This little bit of unnecessary acrobatics, right up Noya’s alley, had taken the stress from his face like a charm. “We’ve gotta do it again, but longer this time!”  
  
“Just because you wanna know what it’s like to be tall— gah!” he folded up like a clam when Noya poked him in the stomach.  
  
“You volunteered to be my stilts,” countered Noya, bounding to his feet. “And my backup. Same difference.”  
  
“So now balance like you’ve got—“  
  
“Say ‘balls’, I dare you.”  
  
“—Courage,” Tanaka finished smugly.  
  
“Not everything about being a guy has to do with that,” said Noya, kicking at Tanaka’s shoe. “C’mon, put ‘em up.”  
  
Tanaka obliged with a grunt, lifting his legs so Noya could climb them. “You’re good at everything else, think of it that way.”  
  
Noya levered himself up using the tree, then carefully put his feet on Tanaka’s. He was silent while they balanced, his arms outstretched. Again, Tanaka straightened his legs. Noya’s weight was easier to handle once it wasn’t over his chest.  
  
Noya didn’t look down, instead focused outward toward the road and the afternoon sun in its slow descent toward the horizon. He murmured, “I _do_ like someone.”  
  
Tanaka, effectively pinned, could only let out a controlled breath and try to hold himself steady. He grunted in response.  
  
“But he, like everyone else, thinks I’m a guy. So I don’t think it matters that I like him at all.” Noya’s voice sounded so sure, even as their legs wobbled. He looked up into the tree, then reached for a branch. Once he got his hands around it, he lifted his weight up so Tanaka could roll out from under him and catch his breath.  
  
“Of course it matters!” declared Tanaka, pushing himself upright.  
  
“Not as much as volleyball,” said Noya, letting go and landing with his knees slightly bent. “Or not getting expelled.”  
  
“Yeah, sure. But it still matters,” said Tanaka, feeling mulish. “Who is it?”  
  
Noya let out a breath. “No way, Ryuu.”  
  
Tanaka frowned, considering. “How about this. Race you from here to... the bike rack and back. First one to the tree wins. If I win, you’ve gotta tell me, and you’ve gotta admit that it matters.”  
  
“And if I win?” asked Noya dryly. Already, his eyes were focused on the bike rack, narrowing with preparatory calculation.  
  
“Then I forget about it so hard I won’t even guess inside my own head. Total memory wipe.”  
  
Noya snorted. “So you’re offering me a physical impossibility?” He took the few steps to where their volleyball lay forgotten in the grass, and flipped it up into his hands with a flick of his foot. “No deal!”  
  
“Not impossible! I’ve forgotten more than most people will ever know. On purpose.”  
  
Noya laughed, his head thrown back. “Alright! Okay, I bow to the ultimate power of your forgetfulness. But I’m calling the start  — three-two-one- _GO_!” On his shout, he threw the ball at Tanaka and took off at a run.  
  
Tanaka squawked even as he broke into a sprint to catch up. By the time they both hit the bike rack they were nearly even, but Tanaka got his foot planted on concrete instead of grass through his turn and that extra bit of traction gave him the push to overtake Noya. By the time they’d made it back to the tree, they each slammed into it with their shoulders, Tanaka just a hair’s breadth in the lead.  
  
Noya grunted, sliding down to the ground, his knees pulled up in front of him. Panting, he said, “Fair’s fair.”  
  
Tanaka crouched beside him, his arms hanging loose, elbows against his knees. Noya looked over, smiling wryly. “Nothing’s ever gonna come from it, though. You knowing. Because you aren’t gonna do anything about it.” When Tanaka did nothing but shrug, Noya sighed. He looked away, his eyes half-lidded.  
  
“A-zu-ma-ne-a-sa-hi,” he breathed, mouthing each syllable like its own separate word.  
  
Tanaka gaped for a moment, then whistled. “Well, shit.”  
  
“I told you. _Nothing_ is gonna come from it,” said Noya, sounding equal parts resigned and serene. “He’s so— so—“  
  
“Shy?”  
  
“ _Straight!”_  
  
Tanaka manfully restrained his reflexive laugh, and instead shook his head. “Okay. Well, if you’re sure nothin’s gonna happen, then I’ll help you with that too. Operation: Y has a new sub-mission. Get Over Asahi-san.”  
  
“I sincerely regret not cheating harder,” grumbled Noya, letting his head fall back against the tree with a thunk.  
  
“Hey! I know I might not look like I’ve ever had to get over someone,” said Tanaka, jerking his thumb toward his chest, “but believe it or not, it’s happened.”  
  
“Noo-oo,” said Noya, an expression of wonder crossing his features. “Not _you_ , Ryuu.”  
  
“D’you wanna get over him or not? ‘Cause if you don’t, you know, there’s always the other option.”  
  
Noya winced. “Ryuu—“  
  
“I mean, maybe don’t let him think your _ribs_ are _broken_ 'cause that’s low—“ He grunted when Noya shoved him over. “Seriously! The worst thing you can do is sit on a crush and not do anything. Be a man of action!”  
  
“My kind of action happens on the court. I’ve got control of… my crush,” he said, like the word tasted bitter, “and it’s not gonna get in the way of anything. It’s not like anybody else has caught on.”  
  
Tanaka flopped out on the grass on his back. Above him, the sky was starting to dim, sunset creeping into blue. “Yeah, yeah.” He pillowed his head on his arms, watching the leaves of the tree flutter in the breeze. “But if you ever change your mind, y’know. I’m here.”  
  
“Yeah,” agreed Noya softly. “I know.”

 

* * *

  
  
Not ten minutes later, Noya vetoed “Operation: Y” as the mission codename. He’d also made Tanaka discard multiple _perfectly good_ codenames previously, such as:  
  


  *  Mister Protocol (Said in English, to emphatic eye rolling.)
  *  The Pipe Trials (“Stop reading dystopian romance novels, are you twelve?”)
  *  Hotdog Crew (“Just no.”)
  *  Team SB (This in particular caused Noya to choke when Tanaka helpfully expanded the acronym to “Sweaty Balls”.)
  *  The Oncoming Storm (Rejected because it was too foreboding, which was a shame, because: “It’s almost cool.”)
  *  Zuke Eenie and the Nanner (At which point Noya hung up on Tanaka, and Tanaka was forced to accept the idea that perhaps giving their endeavor a team name interfered with its ultimate goal of secrecy.)



 

* * *

  
  
When they weren’t talking about Noya’s secrets, he was essentially unchanged. Loud, boisterous, overexcitable Noya appeared daily at school and at practice, and readily came over to Tanaka’s to do homework and watch movies in gym shorts and stocking feet. He painted thrilling, powerful words on his shirts and yelled at the television and nearly broke his skull open when he lost his balance trying to slide down a stairway railing.  
  
And around Asahi, he was nothing if not himself, shouting attack names and diving for the ball like every save was the most important in the history of the world.  
  
In time, Tanaka relaxed around his knowledge of many things, and he found fewer and fewer points on which Noya needed coaching. Under Tanaka’s careful tutelage, Noya’s walk gained a little extra swagger, and he picked up the mannerisms displayed solely in male-only domains. It hadn’t escaped Tanaka that Noya tended to change quickly after most everyone else was done, and wore his practice shirts home. On those days when Noya had a little less privacy, Tanaka was right beside him, chattering and laughing, to keep the others’ attention on himself instead.  
  
It was a good place to be, like some kind of super-secret bodyguard, protecting Noya’s peace of mind.  
  
Until, of course, they lost to Date Tech. At first, with an instinctual worry of which he would later be ashamed, Tanaka thought perhaps that Noya’s feelings for Asahi had driven him to shouting. When he learned the truth, that it had nothing at all to do with attraction and everything with the way Asahi had so callously insulted the work Noya did every day, Tanaka felt his hackles rise on Noya’s behalf. He didn’t even manage to get the whole story until well into Noya’s suspension, after having shown up at Noya’s on some lame pretense about delivering homework so Noya could keep up, and Noya had finally let him come in.  
  
Noya’s bedroom was just as masculine as the rest of him, the walls white and plastered with posters of pro players, soccer and volleyball, and inspirational calligraphy scrawled by Noya himself. Things like _STRENGTH OF SPIRIT_ in emphatic strokes of black paint.  
  
Noya looked determined, still furious, pacing the room as he relayed just what Asahi had told him about _quitting_ and about how Noya shouldn’t have bothered to save any blocked balls because it didn’t matter.  
  
Tanaka didn’t try to interpret for Asahi. He just listened while Noya shouted himself hoarse, then held up a pillow from Noya’s bed to give Noya something to punch into.  
  
“He’s got apologizing to do when I get back,” Noya finally rasped, his shoulders tight. He took the pillow back from Tanaka and tossed it in the general direction of the bed, uncaring when it hit the wall and landed on the floor.  
  
Tanaka huffed, then went to pick up the pillow and set it on the bed. Noya watched him. Then, like Tanaka had pulled the pin out of him, he sagged, rubbing his hands over his face.  
  
“ _I’ve_ got apologizing to do.”  
  
Tanaka sat on the edge of Noya’s bed, leaning forward. “Just come back, that’s all.”  
  
The corner of Noya’s mouth twitched upward. “That easy, huh?”  
  
“Yeah,” said Tanaka. “I’ll back you up.”  
  
“That’s my job. The job I didn’t do.” Noya scraped a hand through his hair, flattening some of its shorter spikes. “I’m gonna get better.”  
  
“Yeah? What’s better than a Guardian Deity?” asked Tanaka, grinning a little.  
  
Noya considered, casting his eyes to the ceiling as if for inspiration. “The — the Guardian Deity of all the other Deities! So you’ve gotta step up too.”  
  
“Hey, I’m still allowed at practice,” said Tanaka, holding his hands up. “By the time you get back I’ll be so awesome you won’t even recognize me.”  
  
Somehow, Noya looked relieved. His answering grin was broad. “Yeah, okay. And when I’m back I’ll blow you right outta the water. Nothing’s getting past me ever again.”

 

* * *

  
  
Well.  
  
In Noya’s case, that was true. Nothing got past him, and nobody else got under his disguise.  
  
Until Asahi forgot his hair tie at training camp and brained Tanaka with the bathroom door.  
  
Tanaka vaguely remembered threatening Asahi into silence, and Asahi stammering before he ran away, but the damage had been done. He’d _seen,_ and the secret was out.  
  
Once Tanaka managed to shut the door behind Asahi, he leaned hard on it, both of his hands over his eyes.  
  
“Fuck. Noya-san. Noya-san, fuck.”  
  
“Is your head okay?” asked Noya, his voice quiet compared to the noise of rushing water. “You aren’t bleeding?”  
  
“No, no, it’s fine,” said Tanaka, then startled when he felt Noya’s fingertips probing at what would become a welt on his forehead. He parted his fingers and peeked between them to see Noya, damp and clean, with a towel hitched up under his armpits. Noya gave him a worried frown. Tanaka repeated, “It’s fine. That’s not what you oughta be worryin' about!”  
  
Noya chewed his lip. “I’m sorry, but I think you’ve gotta cut your bath short.”  
  
Tanaka nodded, ignoring the way it made the spot on his forehead throb. “Yeah, gotcha,” he said, and moved away from the door. He stripped as fast as he could. The longer they spent in there, the more vulnerable they were.  
  
Steadfastly, he kept his eyes to himself, though he could tell Noya was getting dressed behind him. They’d gone through these motions enough times at that point that Tanaka no longer felt squeamish at the idea of Noya looking at him, because it wasn’t even a faint possibility. If Noya had, he’d just see another guy, anyway.  
  
Asahi, though, that was trouble. Serious trouble.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Noya pick up Asahi’s hair tie from where he’d left it.  
  
Noya let out a slow breath, then lifted his chin.  
  
“Well. Didn’t you say the worst thing to do was just sit on a crush?”  
  
“Didn’t you say it didn’t matter?” countered Tanaka. He couldn’t fathom why Noya didn’t look more scared. Then again, fear wasn’t really Noya’s thing.  
  
Noya shook his head. “Too late. Now… now I guess I’ve gotta see how Asahi-san is dealing.”  
  
Tanaka ducked his head to rinse off and knew he’d have to forego a soak. He toweled off as fast as he could, climbing into his clean clothes. “I’m still your backup.”  
  
Noya smiled. He twisted Asahi’s hair tie between his fingers. “You can go first tomorrow,” he said, like everything was normal.  
  
Tanaka took the hint. He held the door open and stepped out into the hall, feeling Noya’s presence beside him as he walked. Still, he kept an eye on Asahi for the rest of the night.  
  
Clearly, the guy was rattled and having a hard time hiding it. When Tanaka caught him staring, he stared back until Asahi looked away. He’d be Noya’s backup and wait for his word, but Asahi had to be aware of his presence in the first place.  
  
When Noya stepped out to go to the vending machine, his heavy hand on Tanaka’s shoulder kept him down. Tanaka watched instead as Asahi followed Noya out into the dark hall.  
  
In a book, or a movie maybe, Tanaka would have the ability to follow them, to listen in. He wanted to climb into the ceiling and crawl after them, sweating in the air vents like a spy, or clinging to doorways in the dark, not daring to breathe. Anything to know what they were saying to one another. Anything to know, as soon as he could, whether Asahi could handle it or whether he was freaking out.  
  
For Tanaka, it was pretty simple. But then again, he’d never gotten an eyeful.  
  
Still. His job was to stay behind and make sure nobody followed them, to distract Hinata and Kageyama while they sulked at being last to get to bathe, to keep a discreet eye on the door to the hall awaiting their return.  
  
When they came back, after a million years, Asahi was smiling faintly, and Noya had a can of juice to drink from. When they sat again, Asahi took his place by Suga, and Noya settled in next to him.  
  
“Whatdjya get?” asked Tanaka, leaning in to get a look at the can. He thought it was pretty subtle, getting close enough to make sure Noya was _really_ okay.  
  
“Aloe,” said Noya, putting the cold can on the red spot on Tanaka’s forehead. Tanaka winced, but let it stay since it actually felt pretty good.  
  
“You like the weirdest stuff,” mumbled Tanaka.  
  
Noya laughed. “You count,” he said, taking the can back to have a sip. “I mean, you’re weird.”  
  
Tanaka looked past Noya, to where Asahi was chatting with Suga, his back to them. The back of Asahi’s neck was flushed. “Did he get anything?” he asked, and they both knew he wasn’t referring only to the vending machine.  
  
“Nope,” said Noya, knocking the can against Tanaka’s forehead again to make him lean back. “Not yet, at least.”  
  
Tanaka frowned over at Noya, but finally noticed the way his ears were just the faintest bit pinker than usual. “Hn,” he said softly, and reached up to adjust the way the can was pressed to his face.  
  
Noya just smiled, letting him keep the can. He looked unruffled, but Tanaka could see excitement peeking around the edges of Noya’s calm in the way he kept pressing his teeth into his lower lip.  
  
“Soon, maybe,” Tanaka murmured, just to see the way Noya smiled.

 

* * *

  
  
Regardless of Noya’s approval, Tanaka _was_ on a secret mission, and he took it quite seriously. Asahi needed surveillance. Tanaka had to ensure Asahi didn’t slip up, didn’t call Noya ‘she’ or ‘her’, didn’t start treating him any differently or, worse, _pursuing_ him while they were still at training camp.  
  
For all that Tanaka could see, Asahi did well enough. He never missed a pronoun, and appeared to be a thousand times more interested in the challenges before them as a team on the court than with Noya. Asahi was fully present and competitive, lit up with the challenge of responding to Kageyama as much as they were united against Nekoma. And as much as he was a powerhouse, Noya was behind him, always behind them all, as fleet and brilliant as ever. Asahi, when he landed, was the thunder following the lightning of his strike. Noya never stopped moving, never stopped watching, the wind behind the storm.  
  
Tanaka, beside them both, caught the electricity between them, their complementary natures again working in sync and without fear.  
  
Asahi was far too shy to ask Noya out just yet, but Tanaka could see it coming, as clear as the sun on a cloudless morning. If the way Daichi and Suga had started whispering to one another was any indication, they could see it too. Soon, very soon, Asahi would have to find his spine and expose his heart.  
  
On that day, Tanaka would have a new mission, secret even from Noya. _Mission: Secret Romance Protection_ had no room for failure, but Tanaka was a seasoned agent. 


End file.
